


Passing the blowtorch on

by SrebrnaFH



Series: Legacy of Responsibility [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Irondad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 12:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SrebrnaFH/pseuds/SrebrnaFH
Summary: Peter, in the lab. Alone.





	Passing the blowtorch on

**Author's Note:**

> Endgame plot bunnies strike back.

The lab was quiet and dark. Maybe a bit dusty.

He turned around, trying to map everything in his mind's eye.

Tables.

Cupboards.

Displays.

Screens.

A chair.

He touched the backrest. Pushed the chair, just slightly.

It rolled away easily.

He dragged his finger along one of the tabletops.

Perfectly smooth to touch.

Slowly, he sank onto a four-legged stool by the main displaytable and hid his face in his hands.

"Shit," he whispered with feeling. "Fuck this buggering shit."

"Language," a soft voice scolded him.

He straightened, but there was nobody with him in the dim, shut-down laboratory.

"And now I'm having fucking hallucinations."

His own voice sounded strange in the empty space.

"So," the other voice sounded amused-slash-derisive, "you're the spider... ling? Crime-fighting spider? Spider-boy?"

It hurt. It hurt so much he couldn't catch his breath.

"Sp..." he stuttered. "Spider-Man."

"Not in that onesie, you're not," someone informed him scornfully.

_What the heck...?_

"It's not a onesie," he sniffed angrily.

A small figure, sitting on the very same stool, slowly coalesced into being from small motes of light gathered over the main working area.

"Why are you sitting so far?" the man's voice asked incredulously. "Come on, to the board, kid. Chop, chop, no time to waste here."

"B-but," he pushed himself away from the table. "How are you here, while..."

"Kid," the apparition did _not_ roll his eyes, but there was a suggestion he could. "There are more recordings of me in this room than an average soccer mom makes of her progeny in their lifetime. Everything I did here, everything I know, is recorded. This is an AI composite, and I will not explain how this is done, because you should know that much. Otherwise, there is enough in Friday's banks to cover any question you may want to ask, but she will not answer stupid ones. I expressly forbade her to."

"But, Mr Stark, I..."

"But but but. You start sounding like a broken motorboat. Get your ass in gear, Spider-Boy. Lessons to learn, things to be done, inventions to be put together. Get that chair and get closer to the table."

"What for?"

He anyway rose slowly, watching the light display in awe.

"Do you want to get authorised to the main control of the lab, or not?"

Even the bloody cocked eyebrow was 100% Tony Stark.

Peter felt tears prickling his eyes.

"Are you getting emotional on me, kid?"

"I'm sorry, Mr Stark, but - but Morgan, and Ms Potts - and it's just been a week - and..."

There was a moment of silence as the light flickered slightly.

"OK, I hope this time it's on," Tony Stark's voice came from somewhere - in fact, from all around Peter - and it sounded in some vague way different to how the small simulation did. "Fine, I see the control light, it should work now. OK, so. Peter. Kid. You're in the lab now. Means Pepper told you what I asked her to. You have access. In fact, you have _full_ access to everything here. Friday will lead you through the setup, interface, blah blah. It's pretty much intuitive, you'll see. There are banks of all kinds of knowledge stored here, so you can indulge."

He managed to crack his eyes open - he never noticed he had squeezed them shut.

And there he was.

An actual recording, paused in the air in front of him.

Tony Stark, frowning, tired and somehow more real than the equipment around them.

"Yeah, so. You will be fine. Not today, certainly. This is supposed to be triggered on your first visit to the lab, as long as you are alone. You can watch this again and again, whenever you wish, but only alone. Because there are things I want you and only you to know."

There was a pause again.

"Listen, kid. If you are there and I'm not it means that Earth is still standing and, what's more important, we got you all back. If we didn't, I'm just recording this to be stored on my hard drive forever, hopefully never to find it, because listening to this will hurt.

"As of the moment of this recording, kid, you are all still... dead. Or whatever it is. I am optimistically assuming a few things. One, that this place survives whatever comes next. Two, that we will get you all back - and I have some, maybe, perhaps... some vague notion. Three, that you will survive the battle, because there will be a battle, that much is obvious. Now, all these three things put together _and_ you being here, listening to this recording, I'm dead or as good as. Otherwise it would be the real life me doing the speech instead of this stupid recording."

Tony Stark looked away and then down, breathing slowly, before he continued.

"So we're after the Endgame, as Stephen called it. By the way, if I'm not there and he _did_ survive, get his phone number. Just in case you need to, you know. Get something off your chest. Stuff. Because I will be asking you to do some things for me and none of them will be easy. For one, look after Morgan for me. Pepper, well, I love Pepper, but she will be saving the world, managing the company and trying not to fall apart at the seams. I'm not asking you to help her, because it's not something you can even try to do, but please try to..." he paused again. "Morgan could benefit from having a big brother and Happy is not in the right age bracket to do that in a believable way."

He nodded slowly. Little Morgan had been mostly subdued when he saw her last - probably the move from the countryside house to the Stark Tower had affected her more than it did to the grownups - but she seemed to be a perfectly nice kid.

"Now, for the more serious part," Tony's voice wend suddenly sharp. "You have to work on the armour. I've left some blueprints you can consider and there are all the designs I've drafted for your suit - there are several prototypes of new equipment in the storage, by the way, you can try installing them - so you should work from there. You have to assume, and this I'm saying extremely seriously, that the next enemy that comes will be, in sheer power, bigger than Thanos. There will be a need for plotting and planning and there will be a need for plain strength. I'm counting on you to provide both."

A panel on the tabletop slowly brightened.

"Your handprint will unlock the library," Tony's voice shifted slightly. "Everything you need, everything you could potentially need, all the materials and all components. This lab, the three around it. Friday. Every resource in the Stark Industries. Just ask and it is yours. I trust you will use it reasonably."

He swallowed hard and extended his palm.

"Peter," Tony's voice dropped significantly. "There are four basic designs I need you to work on from now on. Order of priority, from the left."

An oval, bullet-like shell, fitted with something resembling a kid's car seat.

An almost standard armour, marked with "flexi" in the name.

A standard, standard armour, marked with "fem".

An actual standard IronMan armour.

"Start with Morgan's capsule," the worried father said. "Start with Morgan's capsule, Peter. Make it perfect. And then..." he paused and looked Peter in the eyes. "Then make it mass-manufactured. Pepper will manage this, but the design will be yours."

With deliberation, Peter Parker pressed his open palm onto the waiting light plate.

"Hello, Peter," Friday's bright voice seemed to wake up the lab. "Do you want to set up security routines now?"

"I want to listen to the rest of the message," he nodded towards the frozen Tony Stark over the tabletop. "Then I want to set up the security and to review the current project files."

"Playing the recording then. I will remind you to set up the routines before you leave."

"You should set up the security routines before you do any work," Tony Stark pursed his lips. "What else... Ah. I have faith in you, kid. Remember that. I really hope this recording is not needed, because I'll be there to watch you do all the idiotic mistakes you can and laugh at you, but if I'm not, remember this - I trust you. I know you can do this."

He looked away, trying to cover his tearing-up eyes.

"The AI here has two modes. Friday will be with you all the time, but an additional routine I'm building will turn on occasionally and help you along."

He sniffed and grinned as he saw Tony's disembodied face do the same.

"One last request, kid."

He froze, waiting, his breath shallow.

"Don't eat at the working table. The panels work better when not covered with ketchup and grease."

There was a wet sound, something between a laugh and a sob, that escaped his throat.

"Alright, SpiderMan. I know we've had these little talks. Looking out for the little guy. Things like this. And I know you probably still want to do this. I totally understand. But now..." there was something pained in that voice. "I would let you keep doing this. I honestly would. But you can't afford to, not anymore. I'm sorry."

"It's OK, Mr Stark," he whispered, suddenly hoarse. "It's quite OK. I'll do it."

"Now, SpiderMan, the stage is yours. Tony Stark, over and out."

Peter slowly leaned forward, face again hidden in hands. The tears finally fell.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello,
> 
> MCU is not a fandom I've written a lot in, so it's all kind of new to me. Thank you for reading my story :)
> 
> I am taking a writing course and one of the tasks is to ask my readers to describe my writing style in 3 adjectives. I'd be grateful if you could provide this kind of feedback :)  
> (if you provided it already somewhere else - THANK YOU! :))
> 
> Find me on [my tumblr](https://srebrnafh.tumblr.com/).  
> [My writing blog.](https://fanfik.wordpress.com/)  
> [My handmade blog.](https://srebrna.wordpress.com/)
> 
> Regards
> 
> Srebrna F H


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